


Fear has a Large Shadow

by anna_sun



Category: SPN, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Fear, Fire, Fluff, Hugs, Hunt, Love, M/M, Teenage Sam, i guess, teenager sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:01:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_sun/pseuds/anna_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's afraid of fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear has a Large Shadow

**Author's Note:**

> This got really fluffy and cliche and wincesty near the end, and I don't even know if i'm sorry.

Dean's afraid of fire. 

Sam notices it when he's too young and Dean's cooking for them, always checking in the oven to see if something's burning. Notices it when he doesn't let him play with a lighter. Sees it when Dean always gets paranoid at the slight chance of anything that could get on fire. Knows it when he sees him get nervous around a fireplace. And Sam had always brushed it off at the time, worrying no more than a 7 years old should worry. Because it was Dean, his big brother, the hero, the invincible. And even if his big brother was paranoid about anything getting caught on fire like some kind of old lady who worries about having forgotten her hair straightener on before leaving to make the groceries, then Sam figured it was normal. That it happened to a lot of people too. That this was just something that made Dean more Dean.  

But it really hits Sam when he's, what, 12? 13? Age doesn't matter. He's old enough to know what he's got to do but young enough to feel scared about it. He was on his first hunt, he and Dean sent away to the cemetery by Dad with a ''Find the grave, dig, salt and burn. Do it fast or this woman won't see the light of the day.'' which didn't help Sam deal with the fact that he was going to dig up a freaking grave for the first time in his life. He couldn't help but shake with nervousness on their way to the graveyard, Dean behind the worn out leather wheel of an old pick up Dad had found wherever. They both knew there was someone out there missing their ride, probably calling the police right this instant but Sam also knew he couldn't say anything about it. It was the kind of things you needed to do for the job and feeling guilty about it didn't help anyone. 

He still remembers how stressed he was, the adrenaline pumping in his veins and his fingers scratching the skin around his nails. His brother could sense it too, Sam feeling the chaste looks he gave him but not having the courage to look Dean in the eyes. He felt too much like a kid next to Dean's experience, and he somehow felt ashamed, his small ego there to remind him that this was going to become routine soon. But right then, everything just felt so new that he couldn't help but feel nervous. 

''Sammy, you're gonna have to calm the fuck down or else i'll leave you in the car. And both you and I know that taking more time to burn the evil son of a bitch could get Dad killed.'' 

Sam had felt a pinch in his guts, looking at his big brother with wide eyes. He even let go the fact that Dean had called him 'Sammy' once again. The chance of Dad dying was like the stolen cars deal : you thought about it, but you never said it out loud. At least not to your nervous, scared and inexperienced little brother. 

''Then don't leave me in the car.'' He only said to that, trying to forget the weight that had been placed on his shoulders by Dean's words. He wanted to 'calm the fuck down', he really did, but this was a big deal for him. His first hunt. And as he felt the old engine roaring under him due to Dean pressing harder on the gas pedal, his heart beat faster. 

''Kid, I know you think this is the first step to the rest of your life or whatever.'' Dean added, wetting his lips between his sharp inhale of breath. ''But in reality this isn't a hunt. Pretty fucking far from it, actually. Dad's doing the hunting and the 'wow this thing could kill me'. We're only doing the nasty job. Dad's the one that is going to come back with his shirt probably stained by his own blood, and we're gonna come back smelling like death. It isn't worth getting nervous about.'' 

Right then, Sam didn't know if he hated being called ''Kid'' or ''Sammy'' the most. But it didn't matter, because his mind was kind of going blank with anger. He didn't even think twice about the fact that Dean knew exactly why he was getting worked up. He just hated when Dean made him feel like some kind of fool whose feelings didn't matter. Made him feel like some stupid child.

''Screw you. This is the first time i'm actually _involved_ in a hunt other than reading some boring dusty old book. I don't know how you felt the first time you did it, maybe you were this emotionless cool guy. But yeah, i'm nervous. And if i'm correct, we're the ones who are actually going to put this spirit to rest. This nasty job is worth getting nervous about.'' 

The car was filled with silence after that, and Sam knew he wouldn't get an apology out of Dean but he hoped his brother was thinking about how much of a jerk he had been. Still, he looked out the dirty glass of the windshield, waiting for the cemetery to make its appearance and sitting up straighter when it did. He could see the poster on the edge of the road, the white, painted words ''Heddletown's Cemetery'' shinning in the distance with the glow of the moon. About 30 seconds later, Sam was left alone in the truck with the echo of the 'bam' Dean's door made when he closed it behind him. He shut his eyes and took one deep breath, knowing Dean was picking up the shovels, the gas and the salt in the back of the car. 

Sam joined him in the darkness of the night and Dean was already off, Sam only seeing his back as he entered the cemetery. 

It wasn't long before they found the famous grave of Julian the Third, the older brother of the richest family that has ever lived in this town. He was killed by both his sisters because of whatever money related reason and was now after their families after god knows how many years. Sam couldn't help but think they deserved it, but John was clear on the fact that the children and the children of those children didn't deserve this kind of cruel death. 

It didn't matter. The spirit was killing people and needed to be put to rest, and so he and his brother were sweating in the name of justice. Or whatever.

It was Dean who made the final deep hit of shovel, Sam could still remember the first time he heard the distinct sound of metal against coffin, could still remember the deep sigh that left his brother's lips and was now so used to. And then everything went so quickly Sam almost forgot how to breathe because suddenly he was standing before an almost perfect rectangle hole in the ground and starring at human bones.

Sam had almost expected to face the ghost, for it to try and stop them in any way. He was looking everywhere, from the darkest spots in the trees around him to behind gravestones. He knew he was overreacting by the glances Dean sent his way, his eyes screaming ''Stop this you're being stupid.'' But maybe Sam wanted the ghost to make an appearance so he could prove himself to Dean and their dad, stop being an innocent and safe child in their eyes, even if that was the complete opposite of what they wanted. Unfortunately for him, the wind didn't grow stronger and his flashlight didn't start flickering, and all that was left to do was to salt and burn the bones.

Sam was in charge of pouring the salt into the hole, and he loved the contrast of it. The little white dots, signifying purity, against the dark dirt of the underground. It wasn't long before he finished pouring the can of salt and Dean let the last drop of gas fall into the hole. 

And then there was a pause. Dean got a packet of matches out of his jacket's pocket and there was a really short, pause. Sam noticed it because they both knew they needed to do this quick and dirty, that every second counted. And Dean stayed there, looking at nothing for a while, taking in a breath and clearing his throat. Sam still remembers looking up at his brother with concern and curiosity in his eyes, remembers the way Dean wouldn't even look his way then. 

''Dean-'' Sam had started, but only that seemed to do it. His brother had snapped out of it and had lit up one of the match, thrown it in the hole in one swift motion and then, 

then his big brother took a gigantic step back.

Sam still didn't know what the hell was going on, but all he could look at was the colors and the patterns of the fire. He was kind of mesmerized by it, and he took one step closer, feeling the heat. 

Right about then he also felt Dean's strong arm around his stomach, throwing him away. Dean actually pushed him back from where he was standing, which Sam didn't even think could be referred to as even remotely dangerously close to the fire. His brother's gaze was now intensely starring his face, as if Dean couldn't look anywhere else.

And it's then that Sam realized that it was actually the case. 

Dean couldn't even bear to look at the flames reaching for the sky, because this was one hell of a fire, big and strong and _scary_. Sam hadn't seen his brother scared a lot, because he never had the chance to accompany him during a hunt. Sure, he had seen the flash of fear in his eyes when he got caught smoking pot that one time by their dad, but that kind of fear always faded quickly. Because when Dean fucked up and needed to be punished by their Dad, he got over himself fast and accepted whatever consequence John taught he deserved, fair or not. So yeah, Sam had rarely seen his brother afraid. And he didn't know if the look on Dean's face, his jaw tight, his mouth in a straight line and his eyes wide was fear but it must have been pretty close.

The silence was getting overwhelming and the only thing Sam could hear other than his own breath was the crackling of the fire before them. Sam had no idea how long it would take before it died out, didn't know if they would actually wait until they could put the dirt, still in a pile next to him, back in its place. But Sam knew that he couldn't spend the time waiting looking into Dean's eyes like he did right now because it was just too intense.   

Sam was freaking twelve and he had no idea how to deal with his brother showing his emotions so blatantly, because Dean was never like this, always had his game face on. So he did the only thing he could think of : he opened his arms wide and hugged his brother tight. He knew that Dean couldn't stand being, feeling weak like this, and Sam just needed to show him that it was okay. That he was safe. That he loved him, and this was the only way without having some deep conversation they didn't have the words for. 

Dean smelled like dirt and sweat in the crook of his shoulder but Sam didn't mind. He only hugged tighter when Dean didn't do anything, his body tense, because if Dean couldn't show love like this than Sam could show it enough for the both of them. 

''It's okay,'' he said in a whisper, his voice sounding young and fragile but sure of itself. ''You're...'' Pause. ''We're fine. We're safe.''

Dean laughed a small broken laugh behind Sam's ear before patting him on the back, and Sam could still feel his brother's heartbeat pulsing on his own chest but he slowly let go, looking up at him and seeing the stars for background.

''I don't know what gets to me when I see...'' Another small laugh with a hint of tears in his eyes as they look up, not daring to make contact with Sam's owns. ''I don't know. I guess i'm more marked by that night than I thought I was.''

Dean didn't say anything after that, only took a deep breath and passed a hand in his short hair. Sam got it. This was all he would get out of his brother for now, but he was okay with it. He didn't care if it took a life time to get Dean to open up to him completely, because he knew he eventually would. 

''I hope Dad's okay.'' Sam had confessed, changing the subject but still looking at Dean as if he was crystal about to break in an instant. 

''Yeah, he is.'' Dean had only said. 

So Dean's afraid of fire, and when Sam can't sleep he still thinks about that night, where they came back to the motel dirty and smelling like death, just like Dean predicted. And Sam thinks about all the other times they came back the same, and he tugs Dean closer to him, more than happy to have him there. 

They were safe now, Sam was making sure of it, and he decided that he won't let the flames get to them any more. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always : kudos and comments are super appreciated.  
> I love you all x


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